Not quite a gentleman (but all kinds of a lover)
by The Readers Muse
Summary: They were gifts he allowed her. Only her.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

 **Author's Note:** This is a loose sequel to my fic "Howl for it (but remember my lover is a gentleman)" – Though you don't need to have road that first for this to make sense. This is basically just set in the same universe because onedayoujustchange and thuggums on tumblr are greedy.

 **Warnings:** Vaguely season five-ish in settling – basically sometime after Carol threatened to hose him off if he didn't shower. Sexual content, established relationship, adult language, adult content, sexy times. Remember that Daryl having his first shower scene when they got to ASZ we never saw? You're welcome.

 **Not quite a gentleman (but all kinds of a lover)**

She was under the spray, arms braced against the soapy tiles. Head ducked down between hunched shoulders, hissing without sound as the too-hot water burned pleasantly down her skin when he slipped in behind her.

It wasn't a smooth transition. There was a whisk of cool air from the outside and an elbow or two that got banged into the glass as he pulled the shower door closed behind him - grumping curses. But it was very him. The sort of inherent roughness that generally endeared itself - coming out familiar and comforting - rather than the opposite.

"Ease up," he murmured, like he wanted her to know he was there before a calloused palm cupped around her hip. She smiled into the steam. Looking down at it. Enjoying the starkness of his skin when it was set against her own. She was a mess of freckled-ivory and still fading bruises, while he was tanned, scar-sliced and permanently dirty.

It was the type of build-up that reminded her of the tradesmen that'd renovated her and Ed's basement a couple years before the end of things. How she'd personally witnessed more than a few of them scrub down with the soap she'd left in the closet bathroom downstairs. Only the blackened dirt never seemed to even so much as _smudge_.

Daryl's hands had been like that since the beginning. Strong and filthy-capable.

It was one of the few consistencies in her life these days she found oddly reassuring.

Almost like a metaphor now that she thought about it.

"Mmmm…" she hummed, letting her head tip back into the cradle of him as he ducked his head into the spray. Shaking himself like a dog before reaching up and slicking his hair off his face. Eyes closed in grudging bliss as strong hips tilted down against hers. Cock half-hard and throbbing against the back of her thighs.

She turned slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck as they breathed each other in. Enjoying every inch as they came flush together. He ducked his head, letting it drop into the crown of her chest just like he had in the woods after Terminus – a mess of want and affirmation that still had the power to make her breath catch in her throat. Hyper-aware of every breath as his hands wandered. Reaching up to cup her breast and roll a thumb over her nipples.

She breathed through it, almost ragged already as his cock prodded pointedly at the firm of her center. Pressing insistently at the coarse hairs that crowned her until she reached down and gave him a teasing little squeeze. Waiting until he grunted and slapped out a hand to brace himself against the tiles before she went down on her knees. Eyes slitted through the spray but never leaving his as she swallowed him without ceremony. Wanting the quick gratification too much to draw it out as he hissed off a curse and tried to keep from choking her.

 _So responsive._

If her mouth hadn't been so full she might have smirked. With Daryl, when it came to this, it was _always_ like the first time. Like her mouth was a sucker punch he never saw coming. Looking down at her like she was heaven on earth and sin incarnate whenever she did that thing with her tongue over the head and-

She let go of an aborted squeal when he reached down and hiked her up. Muscles straining as he yanked her clear up and off her feet, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as calloused palms enveloped the narrow line of her back. Bringing her in – keeping her safe – as he panted into her lips like a question.

She answered it by reaching between them and tracing her thumb around the crown. Bringing him up to her lower lips before surging up and almost missing the kiss as the water-slick made everything both easier and harder than she expected it to be. Kissing him slowly as he pressed himself into her, both of them forgetting to breathe.

* * *

 _This was new,_ she realized. Something she never would have thought she'd find herself doing. Even if the world had stayed like it was and she'd found a way to leave Ed. Not her. Maybe someone else, but never her. She'd never been that person. The kind of woman that took risks – least not like that. That liked to live on the edge of things. It wasn't that she was boring. Just, she liked the familiar is all. The stuff she already had a good handle on.

The irony was Daryl probably didn't even think about it.

For him, it wasn't about the newness or the excitement. How this was something she'd only really seen happen in movies or read about in those awful five dollar romances the bookstore always had gathering dust in the bargain bin. The fact that this was well, _kinky-_ would have never even registered with him.

It was about her.

 _It was always about her._

It was a heady thing.

* * *

There was something about it that appealed to a part of her that lived firmly under her skin. Something that recognized the play of muscles under her fingers as he lifted her up and dropped her back down again. Taking as much as he was giving as he sucked a quiet bruise into the dip of her collarbone. Snarling with over-stimulation when she caught his earlobe between her teeth and _tugged_.

She knew him.

Every part.

She knew the animal that lived underneath his skin.

She knew the man spread thin over top.

She knew what he smelled like when both parts were sated – _malleable_.

They were gifts he allowed her.

 _Only her._

And ones she used now, knowing what he needed even as he tried to make it last.

She reached down as he brought her slowly back up again. Hands clenched over-hard around her ass, making clear tracks in the soap as she arched back and tightened around him. His hips jerked, cussing out a blue streak as he slammed her back down again. _Fucking her._ Losing that careful rhythm as something quiet, dark and extremely self-satisfied uncurled itself in the center of her chest. Watching as his eyes fluttered closed, the pale of his neck bared for the taking as she scraped the sharp of her teeth down the side of it.

"Carol, _fuck_ -"

She soared, delighted, when he let go of agonizing groan and came. Hands pressing, pleasure-hard like new bruises she'd only cherish afterwards as he seized her hips like a life line and buried himself deep. Emptying himself in her with a bitten off cry.

The whimper that came later as she clenched deliberately around him - all base syllables and breathy - was so close to her name that it didn't take much more than the blunt of his fingers against her center before she was flying with him. Over-sensitive and screaming as the flat of his free palm slapped down across her mouth the same moment he flicked her swollen clit.

She ended up biting down.

 _Hard._

* * *

They came down stuck that way, him softening inside her in fractions and her soothing the half-moon gouges her nails had made across his back. Neither of them really wanting to move as he shifted his weight backwards, leaning them up against the wall as the spray rinsed down his skin. Highlighting the groves of muscle and scar tissue as she painted whorls in the slick.

She grinned up at him when he finally let her slide back down to the tiles. Sticking his head back under the luke-warm spray until the last of the suds swirled down the drain.

"What?" he grunted, eying her through the sheath of his bangs before he slicked them back again. Thumbing the second shower head above them into life by accident. Making a questioning sound in the back of his throat that reminded her of a disgruntled tom cat before flicking it off and trying the next one. Testing each setting and nozzle until he abandoned the entire thing in clear disgust.

"There _is_ another shower down the hall, you know," she pointed out, smiling into his chest as he snorted and reeled her in. Poking dubiously at some of the bottles of shampoo and body wash stacked in the tile alcove before taking the fresh bar of soap she offered.

"Hey, this place was meant to be environmentally friendly, right?" he shot back, reaching forward to coax the last of the heat out of the hot water tank as he nuzzled a stubbly, open-mouthed something into the dip of her throat. "Sustainable or some shit? Figure I am just sticking to the original purpose of the thing by sharing."

* * *

It didn't occur to her until later. After he'd slumped across the mattress halfway through a murder mystery. Barefoot in jeans and a surprisingly new looking button up. Hair half-dried and wild. How utterly smooth that line had actually been.

* * *

 **Authors Note #2:** Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. - This story is now complete.


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